


The Return of the Prince Part 1

by daughterofdurinanddestiel



Series: Middle Earth Reborn [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Anal Sex, Dreams, Elves, Explicit Sexual Content, Father/Son Incest, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Reincarnation, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Thranduil and Legolas are NOT related, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofdurinanddestiel/pseuds/daughterofdurinanddestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas was not supposed to return, but he did. He now dreams of a beautiful man he can't ever have, but doesn't know who he is.<br/>When he runs into him at a shopping centre, it feels like fate...but does Thranduil feel the same way?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Part one of a two part fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return of the Prince Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm a sucker for Thrandolas fics. I know, I'm going to Hell! But I wanted to do this like my Fili/Kili fic, where LEgolas and Thranduil aren't related. I originally wasn't going to add Legolas in the Middle Earth Reborn series, but I couldn't help it. I have two ships for him, and wanted to work them both out somehow.  
> I hope you enjoy it and remember, kudos and (kind) comments are always welcome!

The halls were beautiful, made of polished wood and marble. They were vast, housing countless inhabitants that were definitely not human. Legolas watched himself walk through them, saw the creatures bow to him. He followed himself through the halls till he got to a giant throne. It was imposing, but not as imposing as the man sitting in it. He was tall, at least six-foot-five, with hair that seemed kissed by starlight, hung loose down to his lower back. He was clad in silvery robes that perfectly enveloped his strong frame. His eyes were of the brightest blue, and his skin was porcelain.

Legolas was entranced by him, unable to take his eyes away.

“Why do you stare?” the man asked, his voice full and deep. “Come, Legolas. Join me here, where you belong.” He reached out a pale hand to the smaller man, and he noticed beautiful rings placed on the smooth skin.

Legolas burned at the anticipation of the touch, wondering if it would feel as good as he expected it to.

 

Legolas woke, startled and aroused. He looked about him, knowing that he was at home, in his flat in London.

It was just a dream, he thought to himself, fighting to control his wild heartbeat. Another fucking dream.

Legolas had been an orphan child, raised in an orphanage run by a beautiful woman who called herself Galadriel. It was she who had told him, when he was old enough to understand, that his memories of a human king named Aragorn and a Dwarf named Gimli were real, and he was a “reborn spirit”.

“You were once starlight, like me,” she had said. “And you sailed to Valinor, the Undying Lands with Gimli. But the Valar saw fit to make you a human.”

“But I cannot understand,” Legolas said, troubled. “Made of starlight? Valar? What are you talking about?”

“Those reborn are so because they had unfinished business from their previous lives. You had a purpose, or a want so strong you couldn’t ignore it, so your spirit was reborn a human.”

Legolas wasn’t entirely sure that Galadriel was sane, but it certainly did sound probable.

“What is my business? Or my want?” he asked.

“That, Little Leaf, you must find out for yourself.”

And ever since then he had seen this man in his dreams. He had wandered the halls of a woodland kingdom where people seemed to revere him, and he always came to that throne, with that very man seated there. Was that his want? This strange man with the bearing of a king? He admitted that he woke up from each dream with an erection that he could not get to go away and a blush upon his pale cheeks.

“What the Hell am I supposed to do? Go back in time?” he muttered to himself, burying his head into his pillow.

How much longer would he have to live with these insane dreams? Dreams in which everyone spoke a strange language he happened to understand and everyone had these weird, pointed ears?

“Made of starlight,” he said to himself, falling slowly back asleep. “He certainly does look kissed by starlight…”

 

Thranduil was huffy because Bard was away on business. He was opening a flagship store in America (owned by Thranduil, of course) and would be away for a month. Thranduil had been okay with it at first, until the days stretched out like taffy on a summer day and he found himself increasingly lonely and horny at the same time.

He decided to go shopping. He was in need of some new suits, and if a jewelry store happened to catch his eye...so be it. While he was looking at some gems on display (at a store owned by Thorin’s family, how lovely), something caught his eye.

A flash of silvery blonde hair, long and straight, plaited delicately. The man had his back to Thranduil, and he couldn’t help but admire the small but athletic physique clad in a form-fitting deep brown sweater and olive-colored jeans. He kept staring, trying to reconcile this man--this human--with the Elfling of his past.

Legolas was reading a magazine at a stand in the local shopping centre when he felt eyes boring into his back. He was used to people staring at him. While he wasn’t conceited, he did know that he looked good. His hair was usually the first thing people noticed, and then his fair skin, his bright blue eyes and body of which he took good care. But this gaze felt different somehow.

He turned to look over his shoulder and face his admirer when he nearly collapsed. Staring at him from the jewelry store across the hall was him. The man in his dreams. His hair was pulled into an artful ponytail, some pieces framing his angular face. And he was wearing modern clothes, a pair of hip-hugging black jeans, stylish boots and a grey sweater that zipped up the side. Sunglasses were perched on his head and a watch that cost more than Legolas’ car sat on his wrist.

“Legolas,” he breathed, his lips easily readable. The next Legolas could not make out, “Cormamin lindua ele lle.”

They both exited their respective stores and met in the middle of the hall, oblivious to all the bustling people around them.

“It’s you,” Legolas said, his face open with awe.

“You remember me?” Thranduil said, afraid to give too much away in case Legolas had less memory than Bard had.

“No. I...yes...look, you’re going to think me crazy, but I’ve been dreaming of you ever since I can remember,” Legolas stammered. “I don’t even know your name.”

Thranduil smiled. He did not know why Legolas had been reborn, when Gandalf had claimed he’d lived a full life and would not have been reincarnated, but he was glad.

“My name is Thranduil. Do you remember who you were, back then?” he asked.

Legolas shook his head. “I remember a man named Aragorn, and a Dwarf named Gimli. I know I always had the same name, and that it means ‘green leaves’. I know I always see you, sitting on a throne in a forest.”

“Mirkwood, the Woodland Realm,” Thranduil said, smiling sadly. “Legolas, I would love the opportunity to tell you everything, if you’d come with me.”

Legolas wanted to, but he was afraid. After all this time, he faced the man in his dreams, a man who seemed to remember him clearly. A man who was so tantalizingly gorgeous he should be illegal. Legolas felt his groin begin to stir and he shifted uncomfortably.

Thranduil raised a cool, pale hand to cup Legolas’ chin and raise his eyes to face him. “My Little Leaf,” he murmured and Legolas had to fight to control his breath.

Reaching a hand out, he put it on Thranduil’s chest, feeling his strong heartbeat. “Did I always feel this way about you?” Legolas asked.

“This way? What way?” Thranduil asked.

Legolas blushed, a pretty pink staining his porcelain cheeks. “Like I can’t breathe when I’m near you, when I think about you. My heart’s racing and all I want is to kiss your breath away.” He paused and added, “I want to have you on top of me; inside of me. That way.”

Thranduil’s eyes widened as he said, “I did not know you ever felt ‘that way’ about me. I would have said something, done something if I had.” His hand trembled on Legolas’ face and he moved it, tracing his throat and gripping his waist.

“You can do something about it now,” Legolas commented.

A million thoughts ran through Thranduil’s mind. The first was that Legolas was not related to him now. The second was that Bard would be heartbroken. The final one was that little voice saying, “Bard need never know.” Because, damn him, he had always wanted his son. Of course, he had never acted on his fantasies then. How could he? But to think that Legolas had always felt the same way, it sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin.

“Do you live nearby?” Thranduil asked,

Legolas nodded. “Not a block away.” He grabbed Thranduil’s hand, feeling the softness of the skin on his and hoping that he was that soft everywhere. “But before anything, I want information. For the longest time, I thought I was crazy.”

“Of course,” Thranduil replied, allowing himself to be led to a modest flat, all done up in different wood tones. It was as close to being in a forest as Legolas could get while living in London.

Having Thranduil, his literal dream man, in his home was quite daunting. Legolas was caught between trying to control his hard-on to panicking that this was just another dream.

“Can I get you anything, Thranduil?” he asked.

“Wine, if you’ve got it,” Thranduil replied, seating himself on a soft, tan couch. Legolas brought out two glasses and an unopened bottle of a very good pinot noir. Thranduil smiled. “You might not remember, but you and I used to share plenty of bottles of Dorwinion wine.” He tucked a strand of hair behind his son’s (damnit, he’s not my son) ear.

Legolas blushed. “Did we know each other well?”

Thranduil gave a rueful smile. “I suppose that depends. I had known you all your life, but we never really knew each other, not in the way I would have liked. That was my fault. I pushed you away when I should’ve been pulling you closer.”

“We’re getting that chance now,” Legolas pointed out, refilling their glasses. “The woman who told me about reincarnation, Galadriel, said I was made of starlight, like her. What did she mean?”

“Galadriel is an Elf. As am I. As were you before you went to Valinor,” the elder man said. “We are, quite literally, made of starlight. It is in our souls, our very marrow.”

“An Elf...wow. I guess that makes sense. You look like you’ve been kissed by starlight,” Legolas said. “What was the Woodland Realm?”

“Where we lived. There were different kingdoms of Elves, you see. There was the Hidden Valley of Imladris, otherwise known as Rivendell, under the watchful eye of Elrond. Then you had Lothlorien, where Galadriel ruled. And then we had our home, inside the beautiful Mirkwood forest. We were more solitary than the others, yes, but we were strong,” he explained. “Out of the Elves, Galadriel and I have lived all this time.”

Legolas’ mouth dropped. “What? You’re not a reincarnation? You have lived all this time after your people all died...or sailed West?”

Thranduil nodded.

“Weren’t you lonely?” he asked, his voice quiet. He put a hand on Thranduil’s and the Elf nodded his head. “Hey, who ruled Mirkwood? I don’t think you said.”

Thranduil smiled again. “I did. I was your king.”

“Wow. No wonder I never had the guts to make a pass at you!” Legolas laughed. He wasn’t really surprised, though. Thranduil had the bearing of a ruler, and that throne was certainly majestic enough to be fit for a king.

“There were other reasons, but those do not matter anymore, now that you’re reborn, a human.” Thranduil’s strong hand weaved in Legolas’ soft locks. “You have no idea how I wanted you, for so many centuries.”

“You did not strike me as the type of king who would not just simply take what he wanted,” Legolas observed.

“I had reasons why I did not. As I said, it does not matter anymore.” Thranduil licked a droplet of wine from his pouty lower lip and Legolas nearly lost it.

Putting his wine down, he leaned over Thranduil and finally kissed him, leaning over the Elvenking and letting him feel his weight. Thranduil was tentative at first, but quickly gave in to the softness of his former son. He tugged on Legolas’ hair, forcing his head higher so he could ravage his neck with teeth and tongue, leaving bruises on the sensitive skin.

“Ada…” Legolas whined and Thranduil nearly passed out. He jumped, spilling what little wine was left in his cup on his sweater, but he didn’t care. “What did you call me?”

Legolas was surprised at how shocked his lover looked. “I...I sometimes call you that in my dreams. I don’t know what it means. I understand the language in my sleep but when I wake I lose everything. Is it okay if I call you that? It feels right somehow.”

“Of course you can call me that. Don’t worry about the meaning, melamin,” he said soothingly, tossing the wineglass aside and pulling Legolas back down on top of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and letting Legolas continue to kiss him.

He had never been so aroused in his life. There was something to be said about forbidden fruit being the sweetest. He slid a hand under Legolas’ sweater, caressing his silky skin.

“I cannot remember ever wanting anyone like I want you,” Legolas whispered into Thranduil’s neck. He shifted, letting his groin rub against Thranduil’s thigh.

“Nor can I. I denied myself the pleasure you could give me for far too long, ion-nin.” Thranduil sat up, obviously making Legolas sit up with him. With a strength that shocked Legolas, Thranduil picked him up in his arms. “Bedroom?”

“Down that hall and to the left.”

Thranduil carried him there easily. Though he had given up immortality, he was not devoid of his Elvish powers. Placing Legolas at the edge of the canopied bed, Thranduil immediately began removing his sweater, revealing soft, nearly perfect skin and toned abs. He unzipped his own sweater and quickly discarded it and his undershirt. He then began to work on his trousers.

Legolas took his time watching him, imprinting the image of him in his mind for all of eternity. Thranduil was delectable, the very image of raw sexuality.

“Do you like what you see, melamin?” Thranduil questioned, his blue eyes shining in the dim light.

Legolas nodded as Thranduil slowly started to stroke himself, giving him a bit of a show. “Come here. Get on your knees before your king,” he ordered, giving Legolas a look that the ex-Elf could not resist. He must’ve been a feared, commanding king in his day.

The young man did as he was told, kneeling before Thranduil as the Elf stroked himself to full hardness. He grabbed Legolas by the hair, more roughly than before, bringing his mouth to his erection.

Legolas put his lips around the tip, hoping that he could take all of him. The Elf was quite impressive. He kissed the tip, licking it and drawing his tongue along the underside. Thranduil was getting quite impatient, and he gave his hips one thrust, sending himself more than halfway into Legolas’ mouth.

He held Legolas in place, but not still, letting his mouth move on him as he pleased, but not letting him go. “That’s it. Kneel for your king,” he hissed. “Be a good boy and take all of it, ion nin.”

Legolas tried to relax his throat as Thranduil began to thrust, fucking himself in Legolas’ mouth. His hand tightened in his hair as he thrust harder, fulfilling one of his many fantasies.

He finally let his son go, because he certainly didn’t want this to end so quickly. He pulled Legolas to his feet and proceeded to undo his jeans, pushing them and his underwear down.

He grabbed Legolas’ throbbing cock in one hand and brought him into a filthy kiss with the other, backing him up onto the bed.

“Lube. In the nightstand drawer,” Legolas gasped out.

The nightstand drawer also held a few dildos of varying sizes and materials, and two different vibrators. “Tell me, did you ever use any of these after your dreams of me?” Thranduil asked teasingly. He smiled as Legolas nodded assent. “What a terribly naughty thing to do while thinking of your king,” he murmured, licking Legolas’ ear, neck and traveling down his chest. He nibbled at the skin of his pelvis, and then went back up and gave his nipples kitten licks before lightly sinking his teeth into one of them.

Legolas groaned, and Thranduil kept worrying the one nipple with his mouth, while he tugged on the other with strong, rough fingers. The rough treatment was succeeding in turning Legolas on even more, he went to reach a hand to touch himself, get some much needed relief, but Thranduil stopped him.

“No. You’re not allowed to do that tonight,” he growled. “Tonight is about me taking care of you, my way.” Thranduil’s grip on his wrist was viselike, and he flipped Legolas over, twisting that arm around his back. “Other hand,” he commanded, and Legolas obliged. Quickly letting him go, Thranduil used one hand to pop open the plastic tube and squeeze lube onto the fingers of his other hand. Legolas’ perfect, delicious ass was in the air, his face turned sideways and pressed against the mattress. He was in such a state of arousal it was painful.

He used the non slicked hand to hold Legolas’ arms behind his back, and then proceeded to put his pointer finger inside Legolas’ hole, spreading his legs further apart. Legolas’ whole body tightened when he felt the lube-cool hand insert itself slowly. He had a secret: he had never had sex. He had stretched himself with dildos and came with the aid of vibrators. But somehow, as nearly insatiable as he was, he could never get it up with anyone, male or female. He always thought about the three men in his dreams. They were the only ones who could get him hard.

Thranduil was no fool. “You’ve not done this before, have you?” he asked.

Legolas murmured a “no”.

Thranduil added a second finger, curving to brush against Legolas’ g-spot and make him moan. There was something very sensual about being Legolas’ first and Thranduil felt his cock give an approving throb.

“Shame,” Thranduil said.

“Ugh...what’s a shame?” Legolas asked, trying hard to form words as Thranduil’s long fingers kept probing.

“That I’m going to ruin you for every man for the rest of your life.”

Thranduil removed his fingers. He bent down, kissing Legolas’ ass, avoiding where the lube was, and teasing the young man.

“Fuck...Ada, I need you inside of me, please,” Legolas begged.

Thranduil bit one of the rounded globes, hard. “Remember that I am in charge. Do I need to punish you, ion-nin?”

“Yes,” Legolas said with a small chuckle, and Thranduil spanked him, hard. He groaned, his leaking cock twitching against his stomach. He slapped him a few more times, leaving red handprints on his pale skin.

Thranduil stopped hitting him and let his arms go. Legolas sighed with relief. They had been going numb. Now he was able to push himself up, in better position for Thranduil to fuck him senseless.

He placed the tip at Legolas’ hole, rubbing up and down as he coated himself in the oils.

“Please,” Legolas gasped, fisting the sheets.

Thranduil leaned over him and placed wet, lingering kisses on his neck and back. “Patience, melamin.” Slowly, agonizingly so, he began to ease himself inside of Legolas. When he was finally fully seated inside the tight, hot warmth of the young man he stayed still, allowing Legolas to get used to the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Legolas was wriggling, letting himself become accustomed to this unbelievable sensation. The dildos didn’t even come close to the real thing, pulsing and hot inside of him. When Thranduil began to move, he groaned at the unusual feeling of bliss.

Thranduil gripped Legolas’ waist tightly, leaving bruises that would not fade for some time. He started slow. trying to get a feel of his former son. He felt a delicious dark thrill at finally doing this, finally having little, sassy Leggy completely in his power.

While the slow movements felt wonderful, Legolas wanted much more. He wanted to be fucked raw, completely ruined, as Thranduil had said he would be. He tried moving backwards to get more friction.

Thranduil tut-tutted. “Now, Legolas, don’t strain. Tell me what you want.” He thrust deep after saying that, hitting that little bundle of nerves.

“Ada...fuck me. Fuck me hard like I’ve always dreamed of!” After that, Legolas couldn’t say much of anything. Thranduil heard his request loud and clear and he started thrusting his long, hard cock as deep in Legolas as it would go, till he was buried to the hilt. He then would pull out and back in again, even harder than before. All they could hear were Thranduil’s pants and Legolas’ moans as the bed creaked and the canopy swung along with Thranduil’s lithe body.

Thranduil suddenly pulled out of Legolas and the prince gave a very undignified whine. Be all the king did was turn him over so he was on his back. Thranduil smirked, seeing the cool, calm Legolas so undone from his ministrations. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed and his cock straining, the purpling head resting against his abs and leaking precum.

“Lle naa vanima,” he whispered, running a hand up Legolas’ chest and massaging his aching balls. He lifted Legolas a bit, exposing his abused hole again before resuming his frantic thrusts, making sure he hit the right spot each time. “I turned you because I want to see you cum for me, Little Leaf. I want to watch you as you lose control.”

He kept thrusting, making sure Legolas’ head didn’t hit the headboard. He gripped one of Legolas’ thighs and used his other hand to finally touch Legolas’ aching cock. The prince squeaked with surprise and relief as Thranduil’s strong hand began to pump him in time with his thrusts. He twisted and squeezed, tugging at his balls and massaging the head while he pounded Legolas senseless.

“Ada...I’m close,” he breathed, voice hoarse from screaming.

“Cum for me, ion-nin,” Thranduil nodded, pounding relentlessly into him. “Show me how much you love being fucked like an animal. Show me how good I feel inside you; that you are a good little slut for your king.”

At his words, Legolas came in long, hot spurts, covering Thranduil’s chest and hand. His muscles clenched around Thranduil’s cock and he also came, holding himself inside Legolas until his seed had filled him completely. Legolas lay back, exhausted and nearly delirious. He ached--he bet it would’ve felt a little better had he still been an Elf--but it was a good ache, a fulfilled ache.

Thranduil lay next to him, brushing his fair hair from his face and neck so he could kiss him. Legolas turned and nuzzled closer to him, returning his kisses.

“My Little Leaf,” Thranduil murmured. “Are you all right?”

Legolas nodded. “Better than all right.” He looked up into Thranduil’s icy eyes, eyes so much like his own. “Why did we deny ourselves this?”

“Because it was forbidden. Had you not been reborn, it would still be. But human blood is in your veins now, and that is all that matters,” Thranduil replied.

“You act like we were once related or something,” Legolas chuckled. Thranduil could feel his smile as he buried his face in his neck. Thranduil stroked his hair, but his silence unnerved Legolas, who pulled away and asked, “Thranduil, were we related?” They looked so similar, Legolas hadn’t realized it before.

“Past tense is key, Legolas,” Thranduil said.

Legolas wanted to feel sick, but he couldn’t. Thranduil was right. The past Legolas was long dead. Only his spirit had survived. They had no common blood anymore.

“Are you all right, ion-nin?” Thranduil asked.

Legolas nodded, laying down on the pillow and looking up at Thranduil. He did seem so ethereal. “I don’t want to wake up and realize this was a dream. You don’t seem real, Ada. If I fall asleep now, I’m convinced you’ll be gone when I wake.”

“I assure you, I am real,” Thranduil said. “But I cannot stay.” He looked down, his eyes darkening. “It would not be wise.”

Legolas realized what Thranduil meant. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, but failed.

Thranduil shook his head, still not looking at him.

“Why not?” the prince asked, petulant.

“This was never meant to be. I am toxic to you. Your attraction--our mutual attraction--is flattering and very real, but sexual passion is not love. The love I have for you is far greater, deeper than what we just did now.” Thranduil placed his hand on Legolas’ cheek, gently rubbing his thumb in small, soothing circles. “And I do love you. I am sorry I never said it when you were in your first life.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Legolas said. “But now that I’ve had you, I am reluctant to let you go.”

“You must, melamin.”

Legolas closed his eyes, letting a tear fall, caught by Thranduil’s lips in a sweet kiss. Thranduil was once forbidden fruit, and now he was like a shooting star: magical, beautiful, potentially dangerous and fleeting. Like a childhood disease, once you’ve had him he would not come again. “I will miss you.”

Thranduil was hurt, a little. This wasn’t like when they had last parted in Middle Earth, after the Battle of the Five Armies. It had been Legolas’ decision to leave, and he had a mission to find Aragorn. He had hurt then, sure, but nothing like he was feeling now. He knew he’d never love Legolas as he now loved Bard, but he was still drawn to the reborn prince. Now that he’d had him, he’d carry a piece of him around with him until this life was over.

“Will I ever see you again?” Legolas asked.

“I hope not. But remember I love you, and you will always have a piece of me with you.” Thranduil placed his hand over Legolas’ heart. “When we last parted, I told you to seek out Aragorn, thinking he would be your future. I was wrong then. But there is something--someone-- else out there for you now. Be vigilant and you will find them.”

Legolas nodded. “Ada?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you please stay until I fall asleep? I’d like for you to be the last thing I see.”

Thranduil smiled. “Of course.” He held Legolas to him, feeling his soft, warm skin on his. He was covered in bruises and bitemarks, Thranduil marking his territory, and his face had never looked so serene at Mirkwood. “I love you, Little Leaf.”

“And I love you.”

When Legolas woke it was almost sunrise. The room was empty, but the spot next to him was still a little warm. He closed his eyes and sighed, happy for the experience but upset that he’d never see Thranduil again. He didn’t have much time to relive the previous day, however, as there was a tremendous crash below him.

“Great. Looks like the apartment below me is finally occupied.”

_**TO BE CONTINUED.** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Can YOU guess who Legolas' new neighbor will be? ;)


End file.
